Sheffield Benedict arrived at the dilapidated inn only to be told by the proprietor that Hannah had already left.

"Gone?" Sheffield’s eyebrows furrowed slightly.

The proprietor dared not hide anything, even though Sheffield had come alone, the royal uniform he wore instinctively invoked a sense of fear in him.

"Just yesterday, the girl you mentioned had left."

The proprietor’s words trembled.

Not everyone in District Nine was downright vicious; initially, it was just an ordinary, backward small town.

But later, someone saw the remote convenience of District Nine and began doing business there.

As businesses grew larger, the waters of District Nine became murkier.

Eventually, the royal family stopped intervening unless something significant happened, turning a blind eye to most affairs.

Realizing he had lost his composure, Sheffield nodded slightly, his tone gentle, "May I ask, did she leave alone?"

The proprietor wiped his sweat, "No, there were three of them, all about the same age."

Sheffield already had his answer.

"I’m sorry to have bothered you."

Sheffield left a gold coin for the proprietor and departed.

With matters in District Nine settled according to the original plan, he was to start his journey to the frontier tomorrow.

The situation at the frontier remained a standoff.

The wanderers’ goal had always been clear.

They demanded the royal family release people.

Now, it seemed that Hannah hadn’t contacted them immediately after leaving.

Why?

Sheffield couldn’t understand.

After pondering for a moment, Sheffield still decided to inform Wayne Lane about Hannah entering the Blackwood Forest.

*

Mo City.

Wayne Lane had just left the royal palace when he received the message.

Today, the king had summoned him, inquiring about his injuries both directly and indirectly.

Wayne Lane did not hide anything, revealing all.

His injuries were indeed severe.

Not just physical wounds but also previous attacks on his psyche.

It would take some time to recover, and he could not operate the mecha for the time being.

Learning of his condition, the king, appearing weary, waved his hand.

Ever since learning of Hannah’s "jailbreak," he had not had a good night’s sleep.

Even though she was his own daughter, he still feared her.

Feared that she would return for revenge.

"You are my father, and the person to whom I have sworn my loyalty. People always say blood is thicker than water, unbreakable, but for me, without the bond of an oath, these things are unimportant."

In his memory, the girl stood at the heart of the palace, her eyes and brows bright and proud.

She was unyielding, resilient, like a fiery red flower blooming on a branch in winter, immune to the snow battering its limbs, showing no trace of fear or retreat.

She had grown into a temperament entirely opposite to that of her mother.

The irony in that smile was chilling to the bone.

On the throne, the king sighed deeply, feeling regret for the first time.

Regretting not having eradicated the problem at its root.

Wayne Lane said no more, nodding slightly, he took a few steps back, then turned and left the palace.

He knew what the king was lamenting.

Long ago, while still at the academy, he had come to know Hannah’s nature.

Capricious, bold, free.

The shackles others tried to impose on her only made her more rebellious and defiant.

She would not comply.

Not with so-called moral norms, nor with absolute royal authority.

He had tried to persuade her.

But she said, "I cherish only emotions, not blood relations. The phrase ’he is your father’ is neither greater than the heavens nor greater than myself."